Not As Simple As A Happy Ending
by Westernsaddle
Summary: It's just a ribbon. A plain red ribbon, absolutely nothing special about it. At least, that's what Sans tries to tell himself as Frisk stares up at him, their expectant look slowly morphing into confusion while he sits there frozen. (In which Frisk isn't the first human child Sans meets, nor the first he befriends, nor the first he kills. And being Sans in general is complicated.)
1. Prologue: Ribbon

_((Note: This is literally being crossposted from AO3 only as a joke because a friend dared me. While the chapters will be published here the same as they are on other sites, if you want the full experience with proper authors notes, links to fanart and side stories, etc., I suggest you try the original copy on AO3:_

 _(archiveofourown)(.org)(/works/5571245/chapters/12843326) (please note the url is split up to get around this site's bullshit formatting. You'll have to copy and paste in pieces.)_

 _The absolutely gorgeous art used as the coverart for this story is fanart by blueberrychill on tumblr. you can find the full version of the art at: (_ _fallendownfallenback)(.tumblr)(.com)(/post/148286058973/pastel-clark-blueberrychill-this-is_ _))_

It's just a ribbon.

Just a plain red ribbon, absolutely nothing special about it.

At least, that's what Sans tries to tell himself as Frisk stares up at him, their expectant look slowly morphing into confusion while he sits there frozen.

Well, not completely frozen, he notes, as he realizes with a sort of belated indifference that his hand is shaking, red tangled between his fingers in a tight grip.

It's not even similar looking, really— Shiny new velvet, soft and clean, with that faint smell of freshness all new clothing has. It's likely come off a rack at some store the kid was at, one of a thousand of the same. There's nothing about it that should stand out in the slightest.

Except the color— A bright, deep red that's too familiar for words. He knows, in some rational corner of his mind, exactly where he is, who he's with, and what he's holding in his hand, but his vision flickers, and he's instead looking down at another ribbon. It's the same color, but the fabric is a thin cotton, frayed at the ends, stained by dirt and mud, and held together only by knots tied in odd places sloppily, but with care and love.

It's a mess of a ribbon, but regardless it looks in place on top of a head of hair a shade of orangey-red he'll later come to associate with the sunset, once monsters reach the surface. Years after he first sees the small face framed by the mess of gingery curls that the old ribbon can't quite keep tied back neatly.

And it really is such a small face. So young. Too trusting when it looks up at him like he's some kind of hero it can place its faith in.

Until it doesn't, and all that's left is a pale body splattered with blood that runs and stains orange curls the exact color as that same ribbon, now clenched between the fingers of a little boy as he hunches over a broken body and keens and screams for his sister with a kind of helpless grief that Sans knows well.

It reminds Sans all too much of the near hundreds of times he will kneel like this next to Papyrus's dust, clutching his brother's scarf to him in a desperate attempt to stem his shaking, his frame wracked with sobs, and occasionally a kind of desperate laughter, because for some stupid reason he dared to hope things would be different, no matter how many times the same result happens again and again.

He shouldn't pity this boy, not when he knows what comes next. The death, the destruction— Everything that comes as a possibility with each reset the boy brings about in a desperate attempt to reverse what can't be undone.

But yet, he does feel pity. And when the boy looks up at him, murder in those dark eyes, he feels guilt, because this is your fault, you let her die, you monster—

"…Sans?"

He startles, and refocuses on Frisk standing in front of him, confusion now laced with concern as their eyes flicker between his face and the ribbon he has clenched in a death grip. Forcing his hand to relax as best he can, Sans meets their eyes carefully. They look so hesitant— Not necessarily afraid, but definitely worried, and a little bit spooked.

It's Frisk, he reminds himself firmly. This is Frisk, here with you now. You survived. Your brother and your friends survived. You are on the surface. This is the good timeline, and it's real.

That still doesn't stop a part of him from wondering when this will just turn into another nightmare, if this is the moment when Frisk's eyes turn red, when they stop being themselves and instead are the demon that he's killed and has killed him so many times. After all, this is too good to be true. He's a coward who's run before and would run again, probably. And he's still waiting, looking at Frisk— For red eyes, red-stained hair, the red of blood, and the red of the one human soul that made it out alive.

Sans waits for the punishment he deserves to come. For something, anything to rip away this timeline and send him back, because he of all people shouldn't have gotten a new life above the Underground, especially when Frisk is still looking at him with concern, but trust in their eyes.

Don't trust me, he wants to say. Don't trust me. Everyone who does dies, whether in this timeline or another.

He feels a small hand touch his, and Sans flinches back on instinct, curling his hand with the ribbon close to his chest. Frisk pulls their own hand away quickly, and looks at him with hurt eyes. And… just... For God's sake, he can't do this right now. The kid doesn't need to see him like this.

It's just Frisk. It's just a ribbon.

All the kid wants is for you to tie the ribbon in their hair.

Pull yourself together, Sans. Don't make Frisk see how messed up you really are. Just apologize, and put the damn ribbon in their hair.

He opens his mouth to do just that, but he can't get a single sound out.

"Sans? Are you alright?"

The voice makes him flinch again, and he glances up at Asgore peering down at him, now standing behind a nervously shifting Frisk.

Ah, yes. He forgot Asgore was going to be here today, to spend time with Frisk. That's probably why the kid had wanted the ribbon in their hair, anyways. They'd seemed to have dubbed Asgore one of their favorite people, much to Toriel's chagrin.

Asgore finally appears to notice the ribbon in his hand, and the way he startles fills Sans with a sort of guilty, vindictive satisfaction. If there's one other person who should feel the strangling guilt and regret he does, maybe even more so than him, it should be Asgore.

He shouldn't be so petty. He gets along with Asgore well enough. They're… friends, he supposes. In the same way everyone Frisk has adopted into their misshapen, makeshift family is.

That still doesn't stop him from understanding why Toriel is so tense around Asgore, why she only allows him to step foot in her home because Frisk has decided they like him. Asgore may be a good person at heart, he may have done what he did for the good of monsterkind— in some warped, twisted way— but that doesn't reverse broken bodies and stolen souls. Sans will be the first to admit himself a coward, but if he's one, then Asgore is several times worse.

Finally, finally, Sans feels the ribbon being yanked out of his hand, and it feels like he can breathe again. He collapses backwards onto the couch and watches distantly as Asgore hands the ribbon back to Frisk, and says something to them quietly. They look in concern at Sans once more, before nodding and backtracking out of the room, the now crumpled ribbon held carefully in their hands.

Sans closes his eyes and dips his head back against the sofa pillow as he feels Asgore sit next to him, and wishes dully that he could just have been left alone, at least for a bit.

"Are you alright?" Asgore asks him, and Sans can't help the dry, hollow laugh he gives in return.

" Sansational." The pun tastes bitter as he says it, and is without any of the usual humorous inflection he gives it.

He feels more than hears Asgore hesitate next to him, and opens his eyes as he turns to face the floundering King of Monsters, stuck in trying to find the right words of… What? Comfort? Pity? Something.

Sans sighs and shakes his head when Asgore finally goes to speak. "Don't. Just… don't. I'm not exactly in a good frame of mind right now, if you can't tell, and I'd rather not say something I'll regret and risk upsetting Frisk."

Asgore pauses, and then ploughs on regardless. "I'm sorry—"

"Sorry doesn't reverse it, does it?" Sans snaps, "At the end of the day, she's dead. They're all dead. They still don't get a second chance like the rest of us. I still had to watch them die, I still had to watch my mentor literally destroy himself trying to find a way to stop what you started, and I still—" He cut himself off. "Nevermind, just… go spend time with Frisk, alright? I don't want to do the whole heart-to-heart about everything. I never will. Offer it to Tori instead. Maybe if you two got everything out, and she had a proper chance to yell at you, it'd stop the god-awful tension we all feel when you two are in a room together."

Asgore's face crumples, and yeah, okay, Sans will admit that was a low blow even for him. He thinks about apologizing, but Asgore's already standing up and leaving the room, so instead Sans lets his head fall back once again, closes his eyes, and tries not to think about it, any of it.

He tries not to think of odd-colored eyes and broken bodies, trusting faces and spears through chests, rage, and resets, and guns pressed to heads. He tries not to think about unfixable machines and a void of space where the closest thing he ever had to a parental figure vanished like he never existed. He tries not to think about dust everywhere, and the not-Frisk with demon eyes and a doll-like smile.

He tries.

He doesn't succeed.

xxx

Sometimes Sans wonders how this is the best end result, the very best option of the timelines. It's arguably what might be called the "good ending", he supposes, except that aside from maybe calling it, this, the end of the darkness of the Underground, this isn't an ending, really. It's a beginning, if anything else. A new opportunity at life.

Or a second-chance of sorts, for those of them that let the darkness of the Underground warp them into doing things they should not have in order to even have a chance at escaping to the surface. Taking life, warping it, bringing it back— Hell, creating it, if that damn flower really is the end result of Alphy's experiments. "Playing God", is the phrase the humans would use, he thinks.

Sometimes Sans thinks they should start a club, those few of them who have seen the impossible and done things they shouldn't. Himself, Alphys, Asgore, Frisk… even Toriel, probably. There's no doubt that she's been through some crap... Stuff she saw, possibly even did (not like he has a clue), back when she was Queen, or when she spent those decades in the Ruins, her only company the few monsters who lived there and the human children that passed through on their way to their deaths.

Regardless, everyone's haunted in their own ways by the Underground, whether they deserve it or not. He sees it in the way Papyrus sometimes goes still, breathing turning erratic as, if only for a second, he sees the timelines he, thankfully, can't remember. He sees it in the way Undyne sometimes tenses and reaches for a spear she no longer keeps at her side, her eyes trained on Frisk as if she can remember the demon in Frisk's body that cut her down again and again, on its way to destroy the world. He even sees it in Mettaton, on the rare occasion he actually lets his mask of bravado come down and acts like a real person, in the way the robot sometimes stares at the sunlight like he can't believe it's real, or looks at his own body like he expects it to collapse under him.

None of them remember, luckily. Sans knows this for a fact. They've got lingering impressions from the other timelines, ones that have created certain nuances or instincts, but they don't remember. Which is fair, Sans thinks. None of them deserve to be burdened with that— Not even Mettaton, who, despite, Undyne's claims to the contrary, he actually gets along pretty well with when Mettaton stops acting like a tv-drama tool. They're both, at least in part, sort-of snarky assholes at heart, which… doesn't actually make for the worst friendship.

Sans isn't sure how much Alphys remembers. As far as he can tell, she doesn't have an explicit memory of the timelines, at least not anymore so than, say Papyrus or Undyne, but she spent enough time around himself and Gaster that, even if they kept the majority of their experiments with the timelines secret, she must have had some idea of what was going on. Knowledge of the timelines isn't enough to always prompt memory, but it can be.

He doesn't think she remembers, and hopes he's right about that. She's already got enough ghosts clinging to her, with the way she still flinches when someone mentions the determination experiments, the way she still can't look at golden flowers without getting this sad look on her face. She's definitely made some mistakes, but Sans can't help but wonder how many of those problems, with her insecurities, with her loneliness, with all her fears, and all the pressure that was pushed onto her and forced her into the determination experiments, could have been prevented if she hadn't been alone, if he hadn't abandoned her and run when the accident had happened.

Just another sin of his to add to the tally in the end, he supposes.

Toriel doesn't remember, either. Which Sans is glad for. She's one of the kindest people he's ever met, and, excluding his brother, could be considered his closest friend. Besides, she's already got enough to deal with. She doesn't like talking about it either, but Sans can see it in the way she sometimes looks at Frisk like they're a ghost, about to disappear forever. She blames herself— For the deaths of her children, and for not doing enough to stop the human kids from leaving the Ruins.

It's not her fault, none of it is. Sans didn't protect them enough, the ones he found at the Ruins door. First out of weakness, then out of fear. Asgore killed them, or he let his guards do the dirty work. Same difference.

Asgore is, as well, something of a mystery. From what little Sans could get out of Frisk, it appears he could count the number of times he killed them when the two fought, but that isn't evidence of understanding the nature of timelines, or even their existence. Sans thinks maybe he has some memory of the other timelines, but possibly only what extends to the particular periods of time when he fought the humans, killed them. He doesn't really know, and frankly he's sort of past the point of caring. Sans doesn't wish his own memories upon anyone, no matter what that small, selfish part of him that believes Asgore deserves this at least as much as himself says.

Which leaves him and Frisk.

…And the flower and the not-Frisk, but Sans isn't really counting them.

Frisk remembers everything. Every timeline they went through, both the ones where they had no control over their own body, and the ones where they had to fight for it. It makes Sans sick, that the kid is stuck remembering everything that demon put them through, everything their body did without their consent.

The guilt eats away at them everyday. He knows, they've told him, on their quiet conversations on the rooftop in the early morning. It's the one exception Sans makes to his little 'no talking about it' rule. Just because he doesn't want to talk about the shit that he's seen and done doesn't mean it's fair to force that arguably unhealthy way of coping onto the kid. And who else are they going to talk to? Sans is the only person who gets it, who remembers. The kid, or at least the kid's body, has killed him, he killed them in return, and they both remember it. It makes for an odd friendship, but Sans supposes that as the only two with any real clue what happened, they've got to stick together.

His own memory is… sporadic, to say the least. Sometimes he remembers the gaps and repeats perfectly, sometimes not at all. Often he won't remember what went down in a previous timeline unless he leaves himself some reminder, a note scribbled in a language that's now dead to everyone barring him, left in the one room he's managed to preserve between timelines. Reloads of saves that are close in time to what the previous present was are almost impossible for him to differentiate. He still doesn't know how exactly how many times he gave Frisk the same speech about judgment, or exactly the number of time he's done any given thing.

Time, for him, is messy and complicated, and leaves him feeling much older than he physically is.

Usually, he's got a pretty good memory with resets, at least ones caused by a human. A lot of the resets caused by the flower are… hazy. There are some things he remembers, some things he doesn't, and some things he's blocked out. He'll never have a complete picture of those years when that thing wreaked havoc, and he's slowly come to be okay with that. It befriended everyone sometimes, and killed everyone sometimes. He's killed it on more than a few occasions, and in retaliation it's tortured him to death more times than he can count. It played with all of them like they were toys for its amusement, and that's all he needs to pass judgment on it.

And no, he doesn't care where it came from or who it might have been before, no matter what Frisk has hinted at and his own gut tells him is the likely truth. It still killed his brother, his friends, of its own volition again and again, for nothing.

He doesn't pity it.

He doesn't.

At least… not that much.

 ** _((The official blog for Not As Simple is on tumblr here: (fallendownfallenback)(.tumblr) (.com))_**


	2. It Came From The Ruins

_((Note: This is literally being crossposted from AO3 only as a joke. While the chapters will be published here the same as they are on other sites, if you want the full experience with proper authors notes, links to fanart and side stories, etc., I suggest you try the original copy on AO3:_

 _(archiveofourown)(.org)(/works/5571245/chapters/12843326) (please note the url is split up to get around this site's bullshit formatting. You'll have to copy and paste in pieces.))_

The first time Sans meets a human, he's just a kid.

 _(He's not sure now exactly how old he was. Time worked differently in the Underground, and the way humans measure age is fairly different from monsters, since different kinds of monsters have varying age spans— Never mind the fact that, for himself and Papyrus, a lot of the regular rules don't apply. Regardless, he's pretty sure it was only a couple years or so, around that, since he and his brother had washed up on the banks of one of the rivers that ran through Waterfall, in the same place all the human junk from the surface ends up, which made him fairly young.)_

He's out in the forests beyond Snowdin, near the entrance to the Ruins, scavenging for things he can take and sell to the Temmies for a bit of extra money. Papyrus needs a new jacket, and he doesn't have enough to buy a good one yet. At least, that's his excuse for being out here. There are arguably better places to go scavenging than here, the lower pools of Waterfall, for one, which is his regular spot. Or, if he really was trying to make good money, he could go to Snowdin for the day. The owners of the town's single bar/diner are always happy to offer him a bit of money in exchange for helping their son with the odd jobs around the place.

But, it's one of the rare days Sans doesn't have Papyrus with him. Gerson's always happy to watch his little brother for the day, which Sans is grateful for, though he doesn't often take him up on that offer, since he prefers to keep Papyrus close by, where he can keep an eye on him. Sometimes though, he needs a break, and often those are the days where he finds himself on the edges of the forest.

He likes it here, this quiet, snowy place. Close to the Ruins door, it's pretty much deserted. The few monsters that choose to live in the forest generally stay away from this part, and so the only other people around are the occasional sentries or guards wandering by.

Mostly though, it's just Sans on his own. Which is how he likes it. The snow and trees feel familiar in a way he can't describe, like he might have known something similar a long time ago, and just can't remember where or why.

It's a cold, bleak area, almost devoid of life. But, it's Sans special place, where he can be alone.

Or at least it is, until the Ruins door opens right in front of where he's been sitting and sketching… something, he thinks they might be stars, into the snow with a spare twig.

He looks up, and meets eyes with the creature standing in front of him. It's thin, and taller than him, though not by more than a few inches or so. With jet-black hair that hangs around its shoulders and covers part of its face, leaving only one dark eye exposed, which is looking at him with the same surprise he feels. It's wearing a thin sweater, and shorts over what he thinks are probably tights, with a pair of large boots. It's got a pair of pink shoes hanging off its neck by a pair of long ribbons that have been tied together, and it's holding a backpack with something pink and frilly sticking out of it.

He stares at it, and it at him, and then they both scream and fall backwards in a sudden rush to get away from the other.

Sans hears the Ruins door slam shut, and scrambles to his feet, shaking the snow off his jacket, as the door opens again, slowly this time, as the creature peers almost hesitantly around the side of it at him.

"Holy shit…" he hears a quiet voice whisper. "It really is a skeleton, _holy shit._ "

"Shit's a rude word." He says, more out of instinct from being around Papyrus than any particular sensitivity of his own.

The creature— No… human, the more he looks the more he's sure, somehow, despite never having seen one as far as he can remember, giggles, and opens the door more fully, staring at him with careful disbelief.

Sans is sure his face mirrors the same disbelief as the other. He's never seen a human before— To him they're mostly the stuff of myth and legend, dangerous and violent in Gerson's stories when he gets in the mood to ramble about his youth as a warrior on the surface. But this human doesn't look dangerous at all, compared to the images of Gerson's rants and the tall tales some of the adults like to pass around at the local bar when they run out of recent gossip to share. Admittedly, aside from Gerson, most of them don't have much of an idea of exactly what a human looks like, but still… It…They? They look like a kid, he thinks. They're probably about the same age as him, maybe just a little bit older, if he had to guess.

He offers them a tentative wave, and they take a small step forward.

They still look cautious, which bothers him. He doesn't know why, maybe out of instinct from comforting Papyrus, who's always afraid when he pretends not to be, or simply because he knows somewhere, deep in his bones, that the human isn't going to hurt him. Regardless, he cracks one of his trademark grins and does what he knows best.

"Don't look so worried, I'm not anything _tibia_ afraid of."

They blink at him, just once, then double over in laughter, clutching their side with one hand, and using the other to cover their mouth in an attempt to halt the noise.

He wonders why they'd do that. Laughter is the good response to a joke, much better than silence, or worse, booing, and they seem to have a nice smile, from what he could tell, before they covered it up.

Still, the joke seems to have done its trick, because when they straighten up, their cheeks now red from laughing, they seem much more at ease, their posture more relaxed.

"…That was possibly the worst joke I've ever heard."

He shrugs amiably. "Hey, they can't all be winners. Besides, you still laughed, so I'd call it a win."

They snort, and shake their head. "It's hard not to laugh at a talking skeleton making bone puns. That still doesn't mean the joke was particularly good."

"Ouch."

"Hey, honesty is important." They're smiling though, when they gesture easily at the doorway behind them. "And here I thought her jokes were bad."

He tilts his head slightly in curiosity. "Her?"

"The monster living in the ruins. She…Oh." They hesitate, then turn and push shut the door behind them, running a hand over the wood with a closed expression. "She looks after humans that fall down here, I think. I'm not sure. It's a long story, but… Yeah, she's nice, even if her jokes are bad."

Sans just nods, guessing that, from the way they're acting, they probably don't want to talk about whatever the 'long story' is.

"But that's what you are, right? A human?"

They grin, straightening up slightly and slinging the backpack they're holding over their shoulder, before placing their hands on their hips. "Yup. Human, one-hundred percent certified."

He mentally pats himself on the back. So he was right about that one. "Wow. Weird."

"Hey!" They make a face and stick their tongue out at him. "You're the talking skeleton. You're the weird one."

"Nuh-uh. Not down here, I'm not." He says. Which… isn't entirely correct. He doesn't think skeletons are exactly common among monsters, but still, he's definitely more normal by the standards around here than a human.

"So you're— Wait… Girl? Boy? Neither?" He frowns. "Or do humans not—"

"Girl." They say decisively. Ah, they're technically a 'she', then, he supposes.

"I guess that answers the question of whether or not skeletons have genders." She says. "So you're probably a…" She hesitates, looking him over once again.

"Boy." He says, and she nods. "I'm Sans," And then, just for the hell of it, he adds, "Sans the skeleton."

She downright cackles, hunching over again, and when she straightens up again, she sticks out her hand with a grin. "I'm—

 _(She told him her name. He knows she did. But it's gone, like a blank slate, an empty spot that weighs on his mind. Gaster said the same thing happened to him with the human he knew, something to do with a side effect of being what he called a 'lost soul'.)_

He shakes her hand.

"So, if you're a human, you must be from the Surface, right?" She nods. "What's it like? How blue is the sky? What do…" His voice falls to a hush. "What do stars look like?"

She laughs slightly, but not in a mean way. "It's… I don't know how to describe it. I guess it's just the sky to me, and stars are kinda… sparkly, I guess." She shrugs. "It's ok. Nothing compared to this place, though."

He blinks. "Really? All the adults talk about is how amazing the Surface is supposed to be." Not that most of them would know. There's very few monsters left that saw the War. Excluding the King, Gerson is the only one Sans knows of, though there's probably a few more.

She crinkles her nose. "Well, I mean, I suppose if you don't see all that stuff regularly, you might think that way. But—" She breaks off, looking down, and playing with the straps of her backpack. "There's a lot of bad stuff on the surface, as well. Monsters are… Well, even the couple of monsters that tried to pick fights with me have turned out to be pretty nice, nicer than some of the humans I've... yeah."

Sans can't help but fidget nervously. She looks sad, and he wants to say something to make her feel better, like he does when Papyrus has a bad dream, but he gets the feeling that this had something to do with the long story he'd already resolved not to press her on, and so he has no idea what to say.

"Anyways…" She shakes her head slightly, and looks up. "This place is like a fairytale, compared to the surface. I mean, I always thought Monsters and the Underground might just be a story, or something. But…" She grins. "It's real, all of it. And it's— It's beautiful. The Ruins are _so beautiful_." Her eyes are shining, and Sans grins, because he supposes, to a human, all this must seem as impossible as the stars are to him.

"Well I dunno much about the Ruins," He says. "But the forest is pretty cool, in my opinion."

She looks around, and frowns. "It is. Though I'm not sure how it's managing to snow down here."

Sans shrugs. "Your guess is as good as mine. Magic, probably."

"Oh, magic!" Her eyes are bright again, and she grabs his arm excitedly. "She— The monster in the ruins, she could do magic! It was amazing, she scared these monsters that were bothering me away with this pink fire, I've never seen anything like it! Can you do that?"

He raises an eyebrow. Well, his equivalent of raising an eyebrow. Sans isn't completely sure how his own anatomy works with some things, and his general modus operandi is just to ignore thinking about it too much.

"Pink fire? No."

She rolls her eyes. "Well not that necessarily. Any type of magic."

Oh. Sans shrugs off her hand and makes a point of not looking at her expectant face as he contemplates his answer.

"…No" He settles on. "No I can't. At least, not the kind you're talking about."

Does it count as a lie if he tells everyone the same thing?

She looks disappointed, so Sans quickly changes direction on the line of questioning. "Do humans not have magic?"

The girl shakes her head. "No. Well, there are stories about humans who could, like the ones who sealed monsters underground in the stories and stuff. Magicians, in the stories, but they just call them Witches now... But they're just myths."

Sans feels like that's off, somehow, even though he doesn't think she's lying to him. He mentally pushes it aside though, when the human suddenly lets loose a giant shiver, a small flurry of snow that had settled in her hair drifting off. "You're really not dressed for this kinda weather, are you?"

She glares at him. "It's spring on the surface. _Late_ spring."

He holds up his hands in surrender. "Fair enough. But that's not gonna do you much good down here."

She's still shivering. Sans contemplates lending her his coat, but it's already big on him, the sleeves rolled up several times and one of the shoulders always slipping off. The human may be taller, but she's a lot slimmer than him, like Papyrus. His coat would probably just fall right off her.

Then her stomach growls, loudly, and her face turns pink in embarrassment.

"Ok." He says grinning. "So new plan. Food might be a good idea. There's a place in town that's heated and everything, and the people who run it are pretty good to any kids that wander in, even if they track in snow." She hesitates. "Unless you had a particular place you wanted to go? I know a shortcut to the castle, if you were trying to get back up to the Surface—"

"No!" She shouts, startling him. "No. I, uh, I was just trying to get out of the Ruins. I don't have anywhere to… I mean, food would be good."

She avoids his eyes as she readjusts her backpack, walking past him in the direction of the trail that leads through the forest. He looks back for a second, at the now closed door to the Ruins, and at his half-finished drawings in the snow, before following after her.

He tries to ignore the words she just said. What he knew, with the instinct of someone who had lived those words, she was going to say.

 _I don't have anywhere to go._

xxx

Grillby's bar is a burst of noise and heat when Sans opens it, breaking what had been, aside from the occasional question about the Surface or the Underground, the comfortable silence he and the human had shared as they walked through the forest and into town.

The human looks shell-shocked at the large number of full-grown monsters, probably quite a bit more intimidating than Sans, that fill the room. They hadn't run into any other monsters on the walk there, and the sentries had been noticeably absent, taking one of their "group mental health days" Sans guesses, noting all four of them are perched at their usual table in the corner, and so that meant that these are the first monsters outside of the Ruins the human has seen, excluding himself.

Sans doesn't know what sort of monsters live in the Ruins, but as the horde of different monsters look up to see who had walked in, he supposes he could see how it might be a little scary to someone unfamiliar with them.

 _(He'd certainly felt scared, those first few times meeting monsters, when he'd wandered out of the lower pools of Waterfall where he'd woken up, clutching the smaller hand of a still groggy Papyrus as they stumbled along unfamiliar ground.)_

The human shies closer to him, fiddling with her hands nervously, and he turns to offer her the most reassuring smile he can muster. She relaxes slightly, and—

 **"** _ **Which idiot's left the door open for all the cold to get in again?!"**_

—ducks behind him when the kitchen door flies open with a slam. Sans winces, and tries to turn around to shut the door, but can't move with the way the human is now clinging to him, shaking with fear as her eyes follow the monster walking towards them. Sans feels the flare of heat as the monster stops in front of him, reaching over his head to close the door. He winces at the sound of it slamming shut, and then turns with trepidation to face his potential death.

"Hi, Mrs. B."

Some people new to Grillby's bar make the mistake of thinking the one they don't want to piss off is the man himself, with his stern expression and imposing figure. But compared to his wife, he's a harmless daisy. It's a generally acknowledged fact around Snowdin that the one really calling the shots at Grillby's is Ignis, whether it's her husband's name on the bar sign or not.

"Sans." The fire monster glares down at him, her checkered shirt and embroidered apron doing nothing to minimize her intimidating figure as she stood over him. **"** _ **How many times have I told you about**_ _**closing the door when you come in."**_

Sans winces, and offers his most polite and charming smile in hopes of appeasing her. "Many times. Sorry."

She humphs, but relaxes her posture and lowers the intensity of her glare to her more usual resting one. "Where have you been? We haven't seen you or little Papyrus all week, we were getting worried."

Her husband snorts from his position behind the bar, and Ignis whips around to fix him with a stern look, turning back just in time for Sans to quickly stifle his own laughter and get an appropriately respectful look back on his face. The other thing generally acknowledged about Ignis, aside from her being terrifying, is that she is essentially a mother at heart to every child that wanders into her diner.

…Even if her style of pseudo-parenting is one that involves a lot of half-hearted glaring and grumbling about ungrateful kids that never come by to visit her. Or, in Sans case, bring his brother around enough. Not that Sans can blame her for that complaint, Papyrus is the best kid around.

Ignis raises an eyebrow pointedly at him, and Sans grins nervously. "Sorry, Mrs. B. Been pretty busy with, uh, stuff. Haven't had time to drop by the last couple days. Paps says hi, though."

She makes another noise of dissatisfaction, leaning down to poke him gently in the chest. "That's no excuse, and you know it. Besides, you'd be far better to spend every day here. Goodness knows the work here is much easier and safer than whatever else it is you do when you disappear." Sans looks to the side guiltily at her words. He knows if Ignis knew exactly what it was he does every day and where he and Papyrus are really living, she'd insist on helping them, which is exactly why he's made the point to be evasive about it in the past, to the point where she's learned not to press the issue at risk of him clamming up and avoiding Snowdin as a whole for a couple weeks.

Ignis and her husband already do so much for him, with no obligation to do so. Asking for more help would just be wrong.

Sans can look after himself.

…And Papyrus.

Papyrus is his responsibility.

Sans is pulled out of his thoughts when Ignis peers past him, and he feels the human tighten her grip on his coat, still hiding behind him.

"Hmm. Back after disappearing for near a week, and you end up bringing in a new face, Sans." Ignis says. "I've certainly never seen a child like you running around before. Are you new to the area, dear? Just moved in?"

"I..." The human shifts nervously. "Something like that. Um, sorry about the door, uh… Ma'am."

Ignis nods her head in approval. "Good, a polite child. You don't see one of those every day. Perhaps you can teach some manners to Sans. He needs more friends his own age, anyways."

Sans just sighs miserably as Ignis gives him one last firm glare before ushering both him and the human further into the room. "Go and sit down, and I'll get you both something to eat. Neither of you looks like you've eaten properly in days." She shakes her head. "I swear, you kids with your aversion to making sure you feed yourselves will be the death of me someday." Once she's forced them both into seats at the one empty table, she nods, and then turns around, fixing a glare in the direction of the kitchen.

 **"** _ **Jr.! Sans is here! Come out and socialize."**_

Sans grins when his friend slowly marches out with an expression reminiscent of a man walking to the gallows, passing his mother on her way back to the kitchen. As soon as Grillby sits down next to him, Sans slings an arm around his shoulder, much to his obvious displeasure.

"Hey _, Jr._ "

Grillby sighs and sends him a firm glare, an expression Sans has learned means _Don't call me that_.

The human ignores them, distracted with rubbing her hands together in an attempt to regain the warmth the wind outside stole from her fingers. Grillby looks pointedly at the girl sitting across from them, and raises an eyebrow. The message is clear. _Who's that?_

"New friend." He says. "B, meet—

 _(He said her name. He knew it, he knew it, he knew it… but he can't remember.)_

Grillby nods at the human, and Sans grins. "And this grumpy-pants is Grillby. Make sure not to call him Jr. if you value anything that's flammable. I only get away with it because his mom loves me."

Grillby mutters something under his breath about it being more about Sans's ability to do the numbers for the diner's budgeting more efficiently than his parents, and Sans elbows him in the side in response.

The human relaxes slightly at their easy interaction and nods her head in greeting. "Nice to meet you."

Sans hears Grillby ask the human a quiet question about where she's from, and he thinks she says the Ruins, but his focus is no longer on the two, his eyes instead sweeping over the rest of the room, assessing. The lull in conversation when he and the human had walked in had been expected, that's not what bothers him— What bothers him is that the noise hasn't picked back up since. At least, not to the same level it was when he entered. His eyes fall on the mixed group of sentries and royal guards perched at their table in the corner. They're staring at them, or more specifically, staring at the girl. Sans's nonexistent stomach lurches as he notes their suspicious gazes and quiet mutterings to one another. One of the sentries pulls out a small book, the guidebook given to all sentries, if he remembers correctly, and peers down at it, before sliding it over to one of the royal guards, who inspects it with the same scrutiny, before looking up at the human again.

Sans suddenly feels, with a sort of sinking dread, that there's something he's forgotten. …Something about humans… and the King.

It suddenly occurs to him that while he knows that it's the job of sentries to watch for dangerous things and provide assistance to civilians when there's no guards to do so, he has no idea exactly what the 'primary target' they're always talking about is.

He startles when Ignis, who's reappeared from the kitchen with plates of hot food, sets one down in front of him with a clatter, before turning to the girl across from him and inspecting her wet hair with a grimace, grumbling something about children that don't wear warm enough clothing.

"Uh, Mrs. B." He asks, cutting her off as he manages to tear his eyes from the group of guards. "Quick question."

"Yes?"

"What's…" God, he hopes his worry isn't visible on his face. "What's, um, the policy on humans that end up in the Underground? I forget."

Paranoid, he's just being a paranoid idiot.

She blinks in confusion. "Well, a sentry or guard is meant to capture them and escort them to King Asgore so that he can retrieve their soul, if possible. Otherwise, the human's soul may be taken by force by a guard if necessary, and then brought to Asgore. Though…" She purses her lips in thought. "That hasn't happened in quite a few years. The last time a human passed through I was just a child myself. Almost no one saw them, it was quite the secretive affair." She pauses. "Still, I'm surprised you don't know that, Sans."

…or maybe not.

He laughs nervously. "You know me, Mrs. B. I remember everything except the important stuff."

Actually, thinking back, he's pretty sure Gerson had mentioned something about a plan of Asgore's to break the barrier using humans a few months ago, amidst one of his stories of the glory days, but he'd tuned most of it out, too focused on making sure the mittens he'd just traded for fit Papyrus properly.

Vaguely, he notes Ignis saying something and wandering away, but his focus is on the human sitting across from him, now ashen and trembling.

"Ok." He mutters quietly, ignoring the confused look Grillby shoots him, keeping his attention on the human. "See that group of monsters in the corner? Don't look at them directly. Use the edge of your vision, note their position." She nods rigidly. "Those are sentries and Royal Guards." Her face turns even paler. "Don't panic." He adds, trying not to panic himself. "I need you to listen to me."

He could turn her in, he knows. He could wipe his hands of this whole mess. He just met her, barely knows her. He has no obligation to help her, really. She's a human, everyone knows humans are supposed to be violent and selfish animals.

But she just looks so scared.

She hasn't done anything to hurt anyone.

She's just a kid. Like him, like his brother.

"We're going to get up and leave, slowly. As casual as possible, alright?" Another nod. "Right… Go."

The human stands slowly, and he does the same, casting a quick look at Grillby, who's eyes flick between the two of them, before focusing on the human, realization dawning on his face. Carefully, Sans edges around the table, doing his best to fake nonchalance as he leans up slightly, and slings an arm around the human's shoulders. Nodding once to Grillby, who nods back, a promise of his own silence, Sans steers the human around the other tables and towards the door of the bar.

They're nearly there when he hears a yell from one of the guards as they suddenly all jump to their feet, crashing into each other in their haste.

"Shit." He mumbles, then pulls the human through the door, ignoring the sound of it slamming shut behind him as he grabs the end of her sweater sleeve and begins dragging her down the street.

"C'mon, C'mon. Run!"

She startles, as if waking up, and then breaks into a sprint just as the bar door slams open, the guards and sentries tumbling over one another in a pile of yells and barks. They run down the town's main road, dodging around monsters that stare at them, and the pack of guards giving chase, with the utmost confusion.

Sans contemplates taking the north road up to the river, but there's no guarantee the riverperson will be there, which means the risk of trapping themselves in a dead end. There are alleys that they could duck into to hide, but while that might fool the sentries, there's a reason a good half of the Royal Guard is comprised of dogs. Their sense of smell makes hiding almost impossible. At least, that's the case in an area they're familiar with.

The only place they might have a chance to lose the guards is somewhere where they have the upper ground, somewhere that the dogs will be less familiar with, and Sans knows like the back of his hand.

He drags the human down the path to Waterfall.

…They almost make it.

And then, right at the end of town, where the snow and wind are always thick, the place they might be able to disappear, the human goes to dodge one last confused citizen, and slips on a patch of ice. Her feet go out from under her, and Sans's grip on her sleeve pulls him down too.

His skull hits the ground with a sharp crack, and then everything is pain. When he manages to push himself onto his elbow from where he's lying on the ground, head pounding, he's greeted with the blurry sight of the human lying on her side, blood sticking to the side of her face that was cut by the ice when she hit it. She whimpers, curling in on herself, and Sans notices groggily that her ankle is turned at an odd angle.

There's an excited shout from the guards, and then a spear flies at them. Sans watches in numb confusion as the magic of the spear, the same magic infused in every royal guard's spear, pulls the human's soul into visibility, before it slams through it, and then across the human's side, burying itself in the ice behind her. Her soul flares wildly, and then flickers, and she screams in pain.

Scrambling over to her the best he can on all fours, attempting to shield her from any more potential attacks, he places a hand on her side carefully, eyes widening when his hand comes away smeared with blood.

"No, no, no, no, _no._ " He takes her face in his hands, pleading with her as he watches the life drain out of her eyes. "No. Hey, stay with me. Don't close your eyes, you can't—"

The human's eyes fall shut, and the world around Sans flickers.

...And then everything goes black.

\\\\\\\\\

Sans is out in the forests beyond Snowdin, near the entrance to the Ruins, scavenging for things he can take and sell to the Temmies for a bit of extra money. Papyrus needs a new jacket, and he doesn't have enough to buy a good one yet. At least, that's his excuse for being out here. There are arguably better places to go scavenging than here, the lower pools of Waterfall, for one, which is his regular spot. Or, if he really was trying to make good money, he could go to Snowdin for the day, the owners of the town's single bar/diner are always happy to offer him a bit of money in exchange for helping their son with the odd jobs around the place.

But, it's one of the rare days Sans doesn't have Papyrus with him. Gerson's always happy to watch his little brother for the day, which Sans is grateful for, though he doesn't often take him up on that offer, since he prefers to keep Papyrus close by, where he can keep an eye on him. Sometimes though, he needs a break, and often those are the days where he finds himself on the edges of the forest.

He likes it here, this quiet, snowy place. Close to the Ruins door, it's pretty much deserted. Most monsters that choose to live in the forest generally stay away from this part, and so the only other people around are the occasional sentries wandering by.

Mostly though, it's just Sans on his own. Which is how he likes it. The snow and trees feel familiar in a way he can't describe, like he might have known something similar a long time ago, and just can't remember where or why.

It's a cold, bleak area, almost devoid of life, but it's Sans special place, where he can be alone.

He's sitting in front of the Ruins door, sketching… something, he thinks they might be stars, into the snow with a spare twig.

… _stars are kinda… sparkly, I guess._

He stops. Blinks. Studies his half-finished drawings.

He feels like he's already done this.

Like something is wrong, very wrong.

Sans looks up at the Ruins door.

 _This place is like a fairytale, compared to the surface._

He shakes his head, looking back down at his drawings.

And then the Ruins door opens, and a creature peers out around the corner.

The creature is familiar looking, despite Sans knowing he hasn't met it before, with pale skin, and dark hair that falls like a black curtain in front of half of its face. It's wearing a light brown sweater, one Sans knows is too thin for this weather.

…How does he know that?

It's trembling, and the eye not covered by its hair is red-rimmed, like its been crying.

"…Sans?" It whispers.

Sans shivers.

Yes, something is definitely very wrong.

 ** _(The official blog for Not As Simple is on tumblr here: (fallendownfallenback)(.tumblr)(.com))_**


	3. Reset

_((Note: This is literally being crossposted from AO3 only as a joke. While the chapters will be published here the same as they are on other sites, if you want the full experience with proper authors notes, links to fanart and side stories, etc., I suggest you try the original copy on AO3:_

 _(archiveofourown)(.org)(/works/5571245/chapters/12843326) (please note the url is split up to get around this site's bullshit formatting. You'll have to copy and paste in pieces.))_

The creature is familiar looking, despite Sans knowing he hasn't met it before, with pale skin, and dark hair that falls like a black curtain in front of half of its face. It's wearing a light brown sweater, one Sans knows is too thin for this weather.

…How does he know that?

It's trembling, and the eye not covered by its hair is red-rimmed, like it's been crying.

"…Sans?" It whispers.

Sans shivers.

Yes, something is definitely very wrong.

The creature pushes the door more fully open, and takes a hesitant step forward. In an instant, Sans is on his feet and two steps back, his head suddenly pounding with an onslaught of _bad bad wrong bad._ The creature flinches back as well, before carefully taking another step forward.

"Do you… Do you remember me?"

Sans takes another step back, because his skull is still aching with phantom pain and echoed voices that he can't understand, and the closer that thing gets the worse his head hurts. "S-stay back."

It freezes, then looks him over carefully, offering a shaky smile. "Hey, I'm not anything _tibia_ afraid of."

Sans stops, frozen.

 _It's hard not to laugh at a talking skeleton making bone puns. That still doesn't mean the joke was particularly good._

Another wave of pain hits his skull, this time more controlled, right on the spot where he…

Where he hit it on the ice.

Sans stares at the figure across from him. "You're… you're a human, right?" It... She opens her mouth to respond, and he shakes his head. "You… you ran away from the Ruins. I took you to Grillby's. There were guards…"

She takes a deep breath, before walking forward resolutely, stopping in front of him. "Yes. You tried to help me escape. Do you remember?"

Sans blinks uncomprehendingly, and she offers him a tentative smile. She has a nice smile, he remembers that.

He remembers.

Sans breaths out once, eyes falling to the familiar looking pink shoes hanging around her neck.

…And then it clicks.

"Yes."

She lets out a sound that's a mix between a sob and a wail, throwing her arms around him in a crushingly tight hug. She's shaking, but, as Sans wraps his arms around her in return and buries his face in her shoulder, he realizes he's shaking too. She's alive, breathing heavily in-between her tears, and this is real, somehow. But all Sans can see when he closes his eyes is blood, her blood, spilling out onto the ice.

"I don't understand. You… you died."

The human gives another sob, her shivering and shaking becoming even worse at the reminder. "I don't know what happened. I remember dying and then… just waking up back in the Ruins again. Right where I was when I first fell. She didn't…" Her voice falls to a terrified whisper. "She didn't recognize me, Sans."

"The monster who found you the first time?" And wow… that feels weird to say. But that's all Sans can think to call it. That was the first time. This is, inexplicably, the second. Somehow.

The human nods, Sans can feel the movement against his shoulder. "It was like she'd never seen me before. The other monsters I'd met in the Ruins, too. They couldn't remember me either. It's like I was never there before. You're the first to recognize me."

Sans frowns. He can't remember anything after she died. Whatever happened to do this, it happened then.

It happened…

Sans feels the part of his body where his stomach theoretically should have been lurch.

"It was you." He mumbles.

"What?" She pulls away, frowning at him in confusion.

"Whatever happened. It was you, or because of you."

She's trembling again, nervous and afraid. "I don't understand."

"I don't remember anything after you—" He cuts himself off at the look on her face. "It happened then. Whatever it was that… reversed everything. It must have been something you did. Or something somebody else did because of you. But if no one else remembers, then that means it must have been you."

She shakes her head. "T-That's not possible. I didn't do anything. Maybe it was you? You remember as well."

He frowns. "I don't think so. It took some prompting for me to even remember, and I'd definitely recall suddenly being able to pull off time manipulation."

"Wait." The human cocks her head, and looks at him in confusion. "You still remembered, though. If you're right, then how is that possible?"

Sans shrugs, and looks off to the side. "No idea." A finger pokes the side of his face, and he glances back up to see the human glaring at him.

"Don't lie. I… " She looks down. "Really hate it when people lie to me. "

Sans sighs. "A lot of the regular rules with... things… don't exactly apply to me. That's the only answer I've really got, even if it isn't a very good one. I really don't have much of a better idea than that, myself."

The human sighs, but nods. She slumps down slightly, curling in on herself, fiddling with the straps of her backpack again. Sans guesses it must be something of a nervous habit for her. "But… if you _are_ right. Then I… How?"

"I don't know." Sans frowns in thought. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"I remember… I remember bleeding out." Her face grows pale. "I was so afraid. But I didn't… I didn't want to die." She's trembling, and Sans wraps an arm around her shoulders when she slumps against him, eyes wide and unseeing. "I didn't want to die, and I didn't want you to die. I wanted to go back where I was safe." Her expression crumples. "So I did." She laughs shakily. "God, you're right. It was me. I don't know how I did it, but it was me."

Her knees buckle under her, and Sans yelps as they're both pulled to the ground, falling into the snow. He pushes himself up to a sitting position carefully, studying the human, who's curled herself into a tight ball, one hand in a fist that she's biting down on to muffle the panicked whimpers she's now emitting. Her other hand reaches up and fists itself in her hair in a tight knot, pulling on the strands hard enough that Sans winces just from watching. Gently, he reaches out and tries to untangle her hair from her hand, using his other hand to catch the fist stuffed against her mouth, with blood running down it from where she's bitten down. He gently pulls her hands away, keeping a firm grip on them as he shifts his body so that they're face to face. The human looks at him, but her eyes are glassy and vacant.

"Hey, hey. Don't do that. You're going to end up hurting yourself."

The human blinks slowly. Sans releases her hands and she curls her arms in, wrapping them around herself. "What does it matter?" She whispers softly. "They're going to kill me, anyways. Just like last time. And then what? I don't know if I can even do what I did again. And if I do… then they just kill me again."

"No." Sans says firmly. "They won't." The human stares at him, and he offers her an easy grin. "I helped you last time, right? We just have to avoid the guards this time. It can't be too difficult." He sighs and stands up, offering her a hand. "C'mon. It's better to get moving while we know the guards aren't around."

The human takes his hand and stands up, dusting the snow off her clothes, but when Sans turns to start walking, he feels her hand grab his coat sleeve to stop him. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you still helping me?" Sans stares at her in confusion, but she just looks confused herself. "They nearly killed both of us last time. It could happen again. You're putting yourself in danger when you don't need to."

"I know that." He says.

She frowns. "So why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do." He says, like it's obvious. Which, to her, it might not be— But for him, it is. Monsterkind as a whole would never have survived the centuries they'd spent in the Underground if everyone had adopted that sort of 'every monster for themselves' mindset, just like Sans himself likely wouldn't have survived as long as he had if everyone had simply looked the other way when he and his brother had appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

The human still doesn't look convinced.

"And because you're my friend."

Her face crumples, and she pulls him into another tight hug. "Thank you."

He sighs in relief and rests his head against her shoulder. "Don't worry. Nothing's going to happen to you so long as I'm around."

She sniffles. "Promise?"

He grins against her sweater. "Of course. That's what friends are for, right?"

xxx

The walk to town is again more silence than anything else, though this time it is less out of choice and more out of necessity. Sans leads the human through the trees, using the small, but well-worn paths invisible from the main pathway that he had found on one of his first few visits to the forest. They move slowly, pausing at every sound of movement along the main path in case it turns out to be a sentry or guard. Yes, Sans knows that theoretically they should all be at Grillby's like last time, but he isn't too keen on taking any chances with that. Things could always change, and just because Sans is the only monster to remember the human so far doesn't mean he would continue to be the only one. Sans thinks it is unlikely but… It is only one extra, unnecessary risk that could be avoided.

When they reach the edge of town, Sans feels the human grab his sleeve, her hesitation clear. He isn't too keen on just wandering back into Snowdin either, after last time, but it's the only way straight through to Waterfall. Even the Riverperson's stop is north of the center of town, meaning neither way of moving forward is possible without at least walking through part of town.

And of course, they have to consider the fact that, even if they get out of Snowdin, there's still the possibility of people recognizing the human for what she is, or running into guards or sentries once they reach Waterfall. Guards generally aren't posted to Waterfall, but Sans knows there's at least one sentry stationed near the entrance, and one or two guards will occasionally patrol Waterfall during a full-Underground sweep. Those are pretty rare, but if word gets out a human is in the Underground, Sans has no doubt the entirety of the Royal Guard will be out patrolling en mass.

Which would be pretty bad for them.

Ultimately, while moving as undetected as possible is the goal, the best thing would to be to have some way of keeping people from recognizing the human as something other than just another monster. Luckily, stealth by clothing choice is something of a specialty with Sans. His own sweater, sweatpants, boots, and coat are practical for the cold of Snowdin and wet of Waterfall, yes, but more importantly they cover up his more obvious skeleton features and provide him with some level of anonymity in their commonness. He doesn't stand out in a crowd, and his clothing makes him look as non-threatening as possible. He chooses to dress like this for that very purpose. It's a useful skill to have, one Sans has had as a well-formed instinct since he first woke up in Waterfall. Perhaps it's a talent he acquired out of necessity from wherever it was he lived before.

Regardless, it'll prove useful now.

He turns around and offers the human a comforting smile. "It's alright. I've got a plan. Do you have a cell phone?"

She nods shakily, and fishes something out of her shorts pocket. When she hands it to him, he flips it open and pulls up the messaging application, typing in one of the few numbers he keeps memorized. Sans doesn't have his own phone. He hasn't found one that works well in the junk piles yet, and buying one from a shop would cost too much for it to be a priority, but most monsters are pretty good about letting someone borrow their phone if asked nicely, so Sans makes sure to keep a few important numbers memorized.

He sends off a couple quick texts to Grillby, before handing the phone back to the human. He knows he doesn't have to worry about Grillby not getting the messages. The fire monster really hates having to talk on the phone, so he makes it a point to always keep it on hand so people can message him instead and still be sure of getting a prompt reply.

"Right." He nods to himself, then shrugs off his coat, handing it to the human. "Put that on. It'll be a bit big but hopefully it won't fall off." The human frowns, but takes off her backpack and pulls the coat on. Sans reaches down and grabs the backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, and studies the human. His coat's completely the wrong fit, the ends swinging around the bottoms of her knees like they do on him, and hanging loosely off her slim frame even more than it does on Sans. She frowns at the rolled-up sleeves, which are now too short on her longer arms, and rolls them out slightly so that they cover her wrists and lower palms. She zips up the jacket, and pulls up the oversized hood, tucking her hair into it.

Sans sighs. It's not a great fit, but then again it really isn't on him either, he's just too attached to the damn thing to get a better replacement. At least it isn't falling off of her. He leans up slightly and pulls the hood lower over her face, before taking a step back and observing her figure. The human seems to have gotten the idea, as she's stuck her hands in the pockets and slumped forward slightly at an angle that's obviously intended to obscure as much of her actual body shape as possible.

Sans nods. It does the trick well enough for now. At least she's more obscure looking, and, should it come to that, harder to give a definitive physical description of.

"We're going to one of the houses in Snowdin, for now." He tells the human quietly. "We're going to have to walk through most of town, so keep your head down and follow me, and I'll keep you away from as many monsters as possible, ok?"

The human lets out a shaky breath. "Okay. I trust you."

Sans grins nervously, and turns around, waiting until he feels the human's hand grasp the sleeve of his sweater before starting to walk. He leads her through town as quickly as he can without drawing suspicion, cutting a wide berth around Grillby's bar. The door to the bar bursts open once as they walk by, startling both of them, but it's just Ignis kicking out a patron who's had a few too many. Avoiding the groups of townspeople, Sans leads the human the rest of the way past the bar, before turning into the small side street that leads to his friend's house. There are only two houses on the small street, one small brown one that the bunny family that runs the pastry shop lives in, and another made completely of brick on the outside, in order to bolster the flame-proof magic it's infused with, that Grillby and his parents live in. They walk to the latter, and Sans knocks quickly on the door, glancing around nervously in the fear that they'll suddenly be caught last minute, but the door opens, and Sans quickly dives through, pulling the human after him.

Grillby shuts the door behind them, and then turns back, raising an eyebrow as he flicks open his own phone to display the messages Sans had sent him.

"Yeah, yeah." Sans mumbles, straightening up. "You know I wouldn't ask you to bail from the diner in the middle of the day unless it was a big deal. Your parents weren't too mad, were they?"

Grillby shrugs. _Not too much, Mum was mostly just worried._

Sans winces. "Sorry." Grillby nods, and then gestures questioningly to the human, still hiding behind Sans with his coat on and the hood pulled up. "Congratulations, you spotted the big deal." He offers a reassuring nod to the human, who hesitates, and then pulls the hood down, her black hair tumbling out and falling in a tangle around the coat collar. "Meet—

 _(Her name. He told Grillby her name twice. What was it?)_

"She's kind of new around here. And, if you haven't figured it out already, she's a human."

Grillby nods, but his eyes are wide as he studies the human, no sign of recognition. Right, so that rules out the chances of Grillby remembering. Sans had already figured it was a long shot anyways.

"She hasn't hurt anyone." He hesitates. "I'm… I'm not gonna let the guards have her."

Grillby still seems stunned, but manages to roll his eyes and give Sans one of his perpetual deadpan looks. _Well, obviously._

"She needs to get back up to the Surface. I know that the barrier is at the castle, but that's about it. You got any more of an idea of the particulars?"

Grillby frowns, and shakes his head.

Sans sighs. "I didn't think so. I've got a place I can get more information in Waterfall, but we've got to get there undetected first. Snowdin's got too many guards hanging around these parts for her to stay here safely." He frowns and studies his coat, still hanging loosely off the human, before snapping his fingers and turning back to Grillby. "Do you still have that cloak your cousin gave you as a gag gift last year?"

Grillby brightens, and nods, walking down to his room and sliding inside. Sans turns back to the human, who's fidgeting in place. "You alright?"

"Yes. I just…" She winces slightly, eyes downcast. "He's not going to get in trouble for helping us, is he? I know you already promised to help me, but he doesn't even know what happened last time."

Sans grins. "Don't worry about him. Grillby wouldn't help unless he wanted to. Besides, if everything goes right, no one will know we were even here." She still looks nervous. "Look, even if someone realized, monsters would never hurt one of their own, especially for something like that. Grillbz would probably just get a lecture about common sense or something."

The human relaxes, and though her frown stays in place, it seems more wistfully sad than nervous now. "That's… pretty different from humans."

Sans hesitates, and wonders if he should ask what she means, but before he can decide, Grillby's back, holding the heavy black cloak Fuku had sent for his birthday last year, a part of some inside joke Sans still hasn't managed to get Grillby to explain to him. Grillby holds out the cloak to the human, who unzips Sans's hoodie and gives it back to him, then takes the cloak and pulls it around her shoulders, fastening the three buttons at the collar. Grillby steps forward and pulls the hood over her head, pulling it as low over her face as possible while still giving her visibility. Some of her hair slips out of the hood and curls around the collar of the cloak, but blends in pretty well again the black fabric. The human leans down and grabs the backpack from where Sans had rested it against the wall when they came in, putting it over one shoulder before drawing the cloak closed over herself.

Grillby studies her, then nods at Sans. Sans has to agree, it does a pretty good job. The cloak covers her almost completely, the only distinguishable things the bottoms of her boots, the lump under the cloak where her backpack sits, and the lower part of her face not covered by the hood or her hair. Cloaks are relatively common with some monsters, and the way she looks now, she could easily pass as just another bipedal monster who prefers to keep themselves covered. Sans grins. It's exactly what he'd hoped.

"Well, that's definitely more than _cape_ able of doing the job." The human snickers, and Grillby shoves an elbow in his side. Sans laughs and steps out of range. "Okay, yea. I know it's technically a cloak, not a cape, but I'd have _tibia_ fool to pass that one up." Grillby scoffs and swats at him, which Sans dodges easily. "C'mon buddy, you should have known I wouldn't stay in _fire_ ing range." The human is laughing now, properly, and Sans laughs too, even when Grillby, who's doing his best to neutralize his own amused expression, finally manages to catch him unawares and smack the back of his head.

That only sets the human into another bout of laughter as Sans chases Grillby around the room, shouting puns and trying to get in his own revenge swat. Eventually, Grillby accidently bumps into the human, and then the three of them are chasing each other between the rooms, breathless in laughter as they forget, even temporarily, the serious situation they've fallen into.

xxx

The walk to the dock at the northern tip of town is quiet. Grillby had gone ahead once to check the Riverperson was there, before coming back and walking with the two of them there. Sans had told him he was free to go back to the bar, but he'd insisted he go with them, to make sure they got there safely. Sans knows it was something of an excuse, given it was less than a six or seven minute walk and not even near the bar— Where the guards were, presumably, still holed up. But, he isn't about to fight him on it.

When they reach the dock, the Riverperson is still waiting there quietly with their small, almost flat boat. The human takes off her backpack and places it in the boat, before couching down to open it and rummage around. Sans turns to his friend and offers him a nervous smile. "I don't know how long this might take, so… That offer your parents made to watch Papyrus whenever I need still stands, right?" Grillby nods. "Okay, good. I, um, tell them thank you for me in advance. I'll send Pap back in the boat, he's used it loads of times before. He knows his way to the bar, but would you mind waiting here for him anyways?" Another nod. "Thanks."

"Um… Grillby?" They both startle, and look over at the human, who's quietly standing behind them. Grillby stands forwards and tips his head in question. The human holds out something in her hand, whatever she must have gotten out of her backpack, and Grillby takes it carefully. Sans peers over his shoulder and takes a look as Grillby turns it over and runs his thumb over it. It's a small charm, the kind for a keychain or phone, that has a little plastic-encased image of a cartoony flame-person attached to it. "I know it's kind of a dumb gift, but… I don't really have a lot in my backpack, and I thought you might like this most out of anything." The human looks down. "It's not much, but I just wanted to give you something to say thank you. I know you're not under any obligations to help me, so I… I appreciate it."

Grillby blinks, and looks up. He doesn't say anything, but Sans can tell he's touched. He guesses the human can tell too, because she just offers a small smile and leans forward, giving Grillby a quick hug. "Goodbye." She turns and climbs into the boat, making a point of looking out over the water rather than at them.

Sans, hesitates, and then gives Grillby a quick salute before turning to follow her. Grillby's hand grabs his arm, and he stops, turning back. Grillby looks conflicted, eyes flicking to the human and back to him, before turning resolute.

"Be careful." He murmurs, in the quiet, calm manner he always does on the rare occasion he speaks. "She seems nice, and it's good that you're helping her. But… she's right. If it comes down to it, you don't owe her anything."

Sans raises an eyebrow. "Not any more than you, or your parents, or Gerson owes me anything, or ever did. But you helped me anyways. She's…" He looks off to the side. "She's lost and afraid, and if anyone understands what that feels like, it's me."

Grillby nods. "Still. At the end of the day your primary obligation is to come home to Papyrus, not to protect a human you barely know. Just… don't do anything too stupid."

Sans grins. " _Too_ stupid? Aww, B. I didn't know you cared."

Grillby glares at him. "Of course I care, you idiot."

Sans sighs, and nudges his friend. "You worry too much. I've only got to get her to the castle, what could go wrong?" He resolutely tries no to think about how much went wrong last time. It'll be different this time around. They're being cautious. It'll be _fine_.

Grillby nods hesitantly, and Sans gives him one last grin, and then turns and steps into the boat. "Waterfall." He tells the Riverperson quietly, drawing his coat hood over his skull and trying to ignore Grillby's worried figure as the Riverperson gently pushes the boat forward with their magic, towards Waterfall, towards home.

Fine.

Everything will be fine.

Nothing bad is going to happen this time.

…At least, he hopes nothing bad will happen.

 ** _(The official blog for Not As Simple is on tumblr here: (fallendownfallenback)(.tumblr)(.com))_**


	4. Barter for Your Soul (Gamble with Life)

_((Note: This is literally being crossposted from AO3 only as a joke. While the chapters will be published here the same as they are on other sites, if you want the full experience with proper authors notes, links to fanart and side stories, etc., I suggest you try the original copy on AO3:_

 _(archiveofourown)(.org)(/works/5571245/chapters/12843326) (please note the url is split up to get around this site's bullshit formatting. You'll have to copy and paste in pieces.))_

Waterfall is a quiet stillness and tranquility that Sans has grown to love. It's the least populated area of the Underground, its natural mazes and endless rivers making it a difficult to navigate and, to many, uninhabitable area. But, to Sans, this very nature of the place is what makes it safe to him. He knows this area like the back of his hand. His knowledge of its secrets is subpar to only a few, and considering he's only been living here a couple years, much less than the decades, or even centuries, some others have had, Sans thinks he's done pretty well. He's a naturally observant person, and he's put that to use.

Which, Sans reckons, will be something that will come in handy now.

When the boat touches down on the banks of the dock, Sans steps out quickly, and then reaches down to grab the human's backpack while she stands up from where she'd been crouching against the floor of the almost flat boat, trailing a hand in the water in amazement as the Riverperson's magic pushed them to Waterfall in a bare few minutes. Once she's out of the boat, Sans hands her bag back to her and turns to the Riverperson.

"Wait here, please. There's someone that will need a ride back to Snowdin."

The Riverperson nods, and Sans leads the human up the way that leads to Gerson's cave. She pauses as they pass the other two pathways, and Sans waves his hand in dismissal. "That first one just leads to an abandoned house, the other's a snail farm."

"…A snail farm?"

"Run by these three ghosts. They're all kinda nutty, really. Always either screaming at each other over nothing or refusing to go anywhere unless it's together. Cousins, or something."

The human hums contemplatively, but nods and follows Sans the rest of the way up the path. At the entrance to Gerson's cave, he stops and signals the human to do the same. "You might want to wait here. Gerson's pretty harmless, but I wouldn't exactly call him a… fan of most humans. It's probably better if you just—"

He's cut off when a small force slams into him from behind. The human yelps and he stumbles back slightly at the sudden weight hanging off of him, but looks down and relaxes when he realizes who it is. Only his brother would manage to turn a well-meaning hug into a flying, full-bodied assault. Papyrus looks up at him, and grins, and Sans feels properly at ease for the first time all day.

"Heya, Paps. Were you well-behaved for Gerson while I was in Snowdin?"

His brother pouts. "Of course. The Great Papyrus is always well-behaved."

Sans grins, and reaches down to scoop him up. "Well I don't know about that," He says, "but I think it's fair to say your well-behaved _most_ of the time." Papyrus makes a face at him, and Sans laughs.

"Ah, see you found your brother, kiddo."

Gerson steps out and leans against the entrance to his cave, observing them with a neutral expression. He raises an eyebrow at the human in her heavy cloak standing behind Sans, but doesn't comment on it. Instead, he fixes his eyes on the brothers and gives Sans a polite nod. "Sans, you're back a bit early. Not much to do today?"

"Something like that." Sans says, trying to keeps his nervousness out of his voice. "Well, thanks for watching Papyrus, but we've actually got to be going now, so if you'll excuse us…" He wraps an arm firmly around Papyrus, and uses the other to grab the edge of the human's cloak, pulling her along. They don't get more than two steps when Sans hears a pointed cough from behind them.

"Kid, that cloak may not be too bad of a disguise, but I fought a years-long war against the human race. You really think I wouldn't recognize one when they show up on my doorstep?"

Sans freezes, turning back around to face him slowly. He feels the human hesitate next to him, and makes to pull her behind him, but she twists out of his grip and steps forward. She's trembling when she pulls down her hood, but determinedly looks Gerson in the eye. Papyrus gasps, and Sans shushes him quickly.

"What of it?" She asks, the barest quiver in her voice betraying her fear.

Gerson shrugs. "Nothing really, I suppose. Just observing the facts. Of course, theoretically, if I wanted, I could hand you over to ol' Fluffybuns or his Royal Guards. Sans too, for willingly aiding a known human."

Sans frowns. He knows Gerson well enough to tell when he's bluffing, and he definitely is now. He goes to step forward, but the human side-steps in front of him, throwing an arm out to keep him from stepping around her.

"No, you won't."

Gerson looks at her calmly. "And you'd stop me, kid? Humans may be pretty tough creatures down here compared to most monsters, but even I can tell you're not much of a fighter."

The human tilts her head. "You're right, I'm not a fighter. But there's a difference between not usually having the will to fight, and the ability to. I…" She breaks off, and Sans sees the hand that's still by her side curl into a fist. "I haven't hurt anyone, and I would like to keep it that way. But, my own safety aside… Sans is helping me purely because he chose to, and I won't risk letting anything happen to him as a result of that, no matter what he says about monsters looking out for their own." She turns her head and gives him a pointed look. "Not because of me."

The human's expression is resolute when she turns to face Gerson again, but he merely gives an easy chuckle. "Relax, kid. That's all I needed to hear." He studies her carefully. "You're quite the honest little thing, aren't you?"

"Yes." The human says, bluntly. "I don't like people who lie to me. So how can I expect someone to trust me if I'm not honest with them? It's only fair."

Gerson hums thoughtfully and nods. "Maybe you're one of the rare good ones, kid. Regardless, I'm not gonna stop you. I said goodbye to all this human-related nonsense of Asgore's years ago." He pauses. "Be careful, though. There are a lot of others who wouldn't feel that way."

The human nods. "Thank you." She turns to leave, and Sans grabs her arm.

"Wait." He looks at Gerson. "The barrier— Do you know how a human can get across it? Why does Asgore—"

"I meant it when I said I was done with that stuff, son. " Gerson tells him firmly. "I retired when monsters came to the Underground, and cut ties with Asgore the minute he started with his ridiculous plans to get out and wage war with humanity. I'm sorry, but I don't have the information you're looking for. I'm sure you know where you can go to get it, though."

Sans sighs and nods, turning and walking down the pathway out to the dock. The human falls into step beside him, and he grins. It's the first time she's walked next to him rather than hiding behind him since time flipped backwards. It feels more comfortable, like they are on even footing for once. He leans over and nudges her in the side gently. "You didn't have to say all that stuff, y'know. You didn't even need to talk to him. It looked like you were pretty frightened."

She looks at him with wide eyes. "Are you kidding? I was terrified." She pauses. "I still had to say that though, had to be honest. He was testing me, to make sure I wouldn't use you to keep myself safe at your own expense. And… I think I needed to hear myself say that." She smiles at him. "If I don't make an effort to protect myself and find my own way out of here, then I really am just letting you put yourself in more unnecessary danger. I'm… I've been enough of a burden to people before. I don't want to be one again."

Sans frowns. "You're not a—"

"Are you _really_ a human?" Papyrus asks loudly, interrupting him.

The human startles, but looks down at Papyrus and grins. "Yes, I am. And you're Papyrus, right?"

"Mhmm!" Papyrus nods emphatically. "I'm the Great Papyrus, coolest and bestest skeleton there is!"

"I bet you are." The human says. "Though what about your brother? Is he cool too, or just a boring-bones?" She gives Sans an amused look, and he makes a face at her in retaliation.

"Sans no rude faces!" Papyrus unhooks one of his arms from around Sans's neck and baps him on the head, before scrunching up his face in thought. "Sans is… cool, too. But he makes too many bad puns."

"Oh? I think your brother's puns are a ton of fun."

Sans raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yup." She says. "A _skele-ton_."

Papyrus blinks once, and then lets out a howl of enraged disbelief. "SANSSSS! NO! SHE'S DOING IT TOO!" Sans can barely contain his snickers, and neither can the human, though they're both drowned out by Papyrus's continued shrieks of exaggerated anguish. Once all three of them quiet down, Papyrus looks between the two of them and hums happily. "Are you two friends?"

The human pauses, then nods decisively. "Yes, we are. I could be your friend too, if you like?"

Papyrus's whole face lights up, and he cheers. "Wowie! I'm friends with a human! And Sans has a friend who doesn't smell like grease!" He pouts theatrically. "…Even if they do also make puns."

Sans grins easily, but when they turn the corner and the dock is there with the Riverperson waiting, his smile falters. "Actually Paps, speaking of grease…." He bends down and deposits Papyrus on the ground carefully, then crouches down so that they are looking at each other on the same level. "You're going to have to stay with Grillby and his parents for a bit, okay?"

"What?" Papyrus's pout is back, but this time it's real. "Without you?"

Sans sighs. "Yes, without me."

"No!"

"Papyrus please. This is really important. It'll only be for a day or two, I promise."

Papyrus crosses his arms and glares at him. "I don't want to! Not without you!"

"I can't Paps." He says quietly. "The human… It isn't safe for her here. There are bad monsters that would want to hurt her. She needs to get to the castle, but she can't get there without someone to guide her. As her friend, I need to help her."

"I… don't understand." Papyrus frowns in confusion and looks at the human. "Monsters want to hurt you?" The human sighs, and crouches down next to them, nodding to Papyrus.

"Yes, your brother has offered to help me get back home. Though…" She looks down, and twists her hands together nervously. "I'd… probably be okay on my own, if you wanted to stay with your brother, Sans." She glances at Sans. "You should take care of Papyrus. I can figure something out."

Sans glares at her. "I already said I'd help you. Stop backing out because you expect me to suddenly change my mind, I'm not going to. I promised, didn't I?"

"But, your brother…"

"Paps will be alright without me for a couple days." He says firmly, consciously ignoring the part of him that rebelled in horror at not being able to keep an eye on his brother. He trusts Grillby and his parents, he could trust them to watch Papyrus for a day or two. His brother would be fine. It was the human that needed help right now. "Right, Paps?"

Papyrus looks between the two of them. "You're… only going for a couple days, to help the human get home."

"Yes."

His little brother sighs loudly. "Fine. Though you have to be back as soon as possible. I hate Grillby's house, it always smells like grease."

Sans grins. "You got it, bro." He goes to stand up, and Papyrus jumps on him, hugging him tightly. Gently, he wraps his arms around Papyrus and rests his skull on the top of his brother's, breathing in the faint smell that is a mix of earth, and wool, and all things Papyrus.

It'll be okay, he tells himself. You'll get the human out of here. You'll come back to your brother. Everything will be fine.

Taking a deep breath and resigning himself to the inevitable, Sans breaks away from the hug. Reaching down and fixing Papyrus's favorite scarf, the red one that's way too big for him, he nods to himself once, a reassurance, and then picks his brother up and lifts him over the gap between the shore and the boat, setting him down carefully in the middle of the base of the boat.

"Snowdin." He says. "And make sure Grillby's the one who picks him up."

The Riverperson hums an affirmative, and Sans can't bring himself to look at Papyrus's nervous face, he can't, _he can't—_

"Wait." The human steps forward, and kneels at the shore next to the boat, pulling something out of her backpack. "Before you go, Papyrus. I have a present for you."

In the blink of an eye, Papyrus goes from nervous to excited. "A Present?!"

The human grins. "Yep. Here, hold out your hand." Papyrus sticks out his hand excitedly, and the human drops a smooth pinkish-brown pebble into it. "This is from the Surface, where my home is. I don't know if you have stones like these down here, but even by Surface standards, this one's color is pretty cool. I think so, at least. Though… I mean, it's just a pebble, so if you don't want it, I completely understand—"

"I love it!" Papyrus's entire face is one big smile as he brings his hand back to his chest and cradles the stone in his palms, looking down at it with excitement. "I can really have it?"

"Of course." The human says, voice warm. "Consider it a friendship gift."

Sans watches his brother's eyes widen. "A friendship gift?"

"Of course." The human says with a wink. "Those are very important, you know." Papyrus nods excitedly, and she smiles. "It's also a promise gift. I'm giving that to you with a promise that I'll keep Sans safe just like he's keeping me safe, and he'll be back home before you know it. Ok?"

"Okay!" Papyrus shouts. "I hope you get home soon, too."

"Thank you."

Papyrus grins, and then turns to the Riverperson. "I'm ready to go now, please." The Eiverperson looks to Sans, and with a nod from him, encircles the boat with their magic and pulls it down the river out of sight.

"Bye Paps." Sans mumbles, as he watches the boat go, then looks to the human as she straightens up, holding her backpack. "You really have a thing for gifts, don't you?"

She shrugs, and looks down, running a hand over the pink frills that still stick out of her backpack, an almost sad expression on her face. "Gifts are important. A gift from the heart, even an impromptu one, is, to me at least, much better than an expensive one when it's given with no love behind it."

Sans hums thoughtfully. "I'd have to agree with you on that one."

A slight wind whistles through the river tunnel, and they both turn and look out over the water. It's the same dark, rushing blue Sans has seen a thousand times, but he doesn't think he'll ever get tired of it. To many monsters, the river that runs through the Underground is just a convenient mode of transportation. But to Sans, who can never look at it without remembering the first time he saw it, with wide eyes at the realization that something that big and lively existed in the strange place of gentle waterfalls and small pools that had become his new home, the river is its own force of nature— Dangerous, but beautiful. He wonders if they have sights like that up on the Surface, with all its supposed great big open spaces. Ones that are small, easy to ignore, if you're not the kind of person to focus on them while passing by, yet so strangely beautiful and unique, if only mostly to those who haven't seen too much of the world, and if only in the smallest of ways for everyone else who has.

"What now?" The human asks.

"Now," He says, "We go barter for some information."

xxx

"Right." Sans says, kicking open the dimensional storage box that sits outside Gerson's shop and pulling out the sack of emergency trade items he keeps in there. "Rule one of dealing with the monsters we're about to go see: Don't let their physical appearance fool you. Temmies are possibly some of the most vicious and cunning creatures in existence when they choose to be. Their happy-go-lucky attitude and idiotic persona are simply a cover for their intelligence. I can't stress this enough— _Do not underestimate them_."

The human's face is pale, but she nods. "Um… If they're so bad, why are we going to see them?"

"Because." Sans straightens up and slings the sack over his shoulder. "They trade either directly or indirectly with almost everyone in the Underground, they run a good portion of the economy that way, and as such, they make it a point to know what's going on." He offers the human a grim smile. "Once you get past their bullshit, Temmies are the ultimate source of information, so long as you're willing to pay them what they want for it. Luckily," He motions to the sack. "I keep a sort of emergency supply of tradable items here, in case I ever need something urgently and for whatever reason can't or won't go back home for my regular stuff. Never had to use it, but looks like it'll finally come in handy."

The human frowns. "We could just try to use what's in my backpack, you know. You don't need to waste your stuff on me."

Sans waves his hand. "Don't worry about it. This isn't important trade items or anything I can't find again." He shrugs. "To be honest, I always sort of thought I'd never end up using it at all, it just seemed like a good idea at the time when I first put it here. Keep your stuff, you might need it later on."

"…Alright." She says. "If you're sure."

"Yup. Ok, follow me."

The walk down the cavern halls is quick, but when they reach the room that hides the entrance to the Temmies' village, the human stops and grabs Sans's sleeve, her eyes wide and frightened.

"This is going to sound stupid, but I really don't like the dark."

"It's not that far, I promise." He says. "I've walked it loads of times. You can hold onto me if you want."

The human shakes her head. She's even paler now, hands grabbing at the fabric of her cloak and pulling it more snugly around herself. "No, you don't understand. I really, _really_ don't like the dark. I'm terrified of it. I…" She cuts herself off, pressing a shaking hand to her mouth. She looks close to tears.

Sans blinks.

 _Oh._

It's _that_ type of fear. The type that claws at your throat and pulls all the air out of your lungs and leave you screaming on the inside. The type that makes absolutely no sense in the vast perspective of things or when explained to someone else, but makes perfect sense to the one person who feels it. The type that crawls to the forefront of your mind and takes over any logical thought.

…The type of fear Sans felt that first time he saw the Underground's river, mixing with and eventually overwhelming the awe he primarily felt at its beauty, when Papyrus got too close to the edge, and all of a sudden all he could feel was breathless terror.

The type of fear Sans still feels sometimes when he sees the patches of frozen river in Snowdin, especially when Papyrus is anywhere near them.

It's a paranoia that won't be leaving him anytime soon. As it is now, he still struggles occasionally with letting Papyrus ride in the Riverperson's boat, despite knowing it's perfectly safe. Sans doesn't think it's a fear he'll ever really be over, irrational and impossible to explain as it is— Just another piece of wherever he came from before Waterfall to haunt him.

That fear on the human's face? He knows it all too well.

"Okay," He says, backing her out of the shadows of the entryway. "Okay. Not a problem. Just wait here for a second, all right?" The human nods stiffly, and he ducks inside the room, walking with practiced precision the steps he's learned to navigate perfectly in the dark, until he reaches the first glowstool in the room, tapping it to activate its quiet blue light. After that, he merely has to follow the glowing patterns on the floor to each consecutive glowstool, until he's lit up the last one in the room, and the whole area is laid out in a soft blue glow. With a grin, he backtracks to the human and gives her a thumbs up. "This should solve the problem." The human follows him into the room, and upon seeing the glowing pathway that lights up the space around them, instantly relaxes.

"Thank you."

He shrugs. "No problem. I get it. Well… I mean, not the dark thing, but… I get crazy nervous around rivers sometimes. Frozen rivers, to be more exact. 'Specially when Pap's near 'em. So…" He coughs. "Right. Temmie village, this way."

The human follows him calmly this time, and at the edge of the entrance to the village, he stops and motions to her cloak. "Should probably put the hood back up. They might recognize you're human anyways, cause, like I said, they know basically everything, but it's still best to give them as little of an idea as possible 'bout what you look like." The human hums an agreement and pulls up her hood. Out of instinct, Sans reaches up and does the same, drawing the hood of his coat low over his brow. It's pretty much pointless these days, the Temmies know his name and probably basically everything about him, but he'd really rather not leave the back of his head exposed to those things.

Stepping inside Temmie village is, to Sans, like stepping into his own personal, custom-designed hell. Everything is obnoxiously bright, and loud, and _lord help him why is one of them always humming that damn song_.

He freezes in his tracks and tries very hard not to turn around and bolt the other way. It's only when the human brushes past him, shooting him a confused look as she passes him, that he manages to get himself moving again.

He's spent this whole time promising the human she can trust him to keep her alive and safe— Like hell he's going to hide behind her here of all places.

"H0i, i'M TeMmiE!"

The human stops, and blinks at the Temmie that's wandered up to her, offering a smile to it. "Hello there." She crouches down and peers at it with interest, and hurriedly Sans grabs the back of her cloak and pulls her up.

"What happened to rule one?" He asks her with a sigh, before looking down at the Temmie still standing in front of them. "Go away. Shoo." In an instant, the Temmie's vacant eyes harden to a death glare, which never leaves Sans's face as it slinks away from them, stepping into line with the other Temmies that dot the area. Multitudes of beady eyes look up at him, and Sans, against all biological possibility, feels himself begin to sweat nervously. He's never figured out if the Temmies are a species that just inherently looks the same no matter what, a bunch of clones, or just demon spawn. He's always leaned towards the third option, but he's never been to keen to properly find out, and he isn't about to either.

"C'mon." He says, dragging the human into the shop and ignoring her half-voiced complaints as she gazes longingly back at the main room. "Believe me, they're not as sweet as they look."

"Awww… wHy Say tHaT? MaKE TemMiE sAd…"

With a cringe, Sans turns and faces the head Temmie staring at him with her head cocked slightly to the left in a deceptively innocent manner, a dumb half smile on her face. He glares at her. "Cut the crap, I'm not in the mood." Lifting the sack off his shoulder, he swings it in front of her, watching her eyes track it with intent, before chucking it down on the table in front of her. "I've come to trade." The Temmie's small closed smile stretches up into a wide grin, showing off sharp incisors, and Sans shivers nervously as he hears the human gasp and instinctively grab his sleeve.

Yeah… he really doesn't like these things.

The Temmie motions him closer, and he steps forward to the edge of the table, the human a careful step behind him. Reaching down, he opens the sack and upends it, spilling the contents out onto the table. Sans looks at them, and winces. It's mostly human junk he'd fished out of the lower pools, which, depending on the items, could be quite valuable on the goods market. But these, looking at them under the more experienced eye for these things he has gained over the last couple years, they… aren't. It isn't a bad stash considering it was only for a hypothetical emergency, and was put together after he'd barely been around for a couple months, but it definitely could have been better.

The head Temmie's eyes sweep over the items quickly, and she clucks her tounge in mock disappointment. "Not enough for that coat for your brother, though I suppose you already knew that?"

Sans nods. "That's not what I'm here for."

"No." Says the Temmie. "I didn't think you were." Her eyes glint, and she looks around Sans, focusing in on the human standing behind him. "Come here. Let me get a look at you, human."

The human gulps, but shuffles forward until she's standing next to Sans. The Temmie hops up from her seat behind the counter and walks across it towards her. Quickly, Sans shoots up an arm in front of the human and glares at the Temmie, sending her a clear message.

 _No further._

The Temmie chuckles and stops, looking over the human with scrutinizing eyes. "Just a child, aren't you? Then again, they're always children." She hums and walks backwards, hopping into her seat. "You're younger than the two humans that came before you, but older than the first who died at Asgore's hand." She gazes at the human, expression curious. "How will you fare against him, I wonder? You're not a fighter, but you are a survivor, aren't you? Or you were. Are you still? Or have you given up? I doesn't matter, really. Every human that comes down here is a survivor, in their own way. It still didn't save any of them from death."

The human whimpers, curling in on herself. "That's enough." Sans snaps. "We're here to get information, not listen to cryptic threats. So are we going to trade or not?"

"But of course." The Temmie says. "Please, take a seat." The human yelps as suddenly, two chairs slam into them from behind, forcing them both to sit. Sans looks back at the two Temmies that have appeared seemingly from nowhere with the chairs and glares, but then turns back to the counter with a sigh. The Temmies' rough version of 'hospitality' is nothing new to him.

"Ask away."

Sans wishes it was that simple, but he knows the drill. Quickly, he scans the items on the desk in front of them and picks out three, sliding them towards the head Temmie. "What does Asgore want with human souls? Why are they so valuable?" The Temmie blinks, and he sighs and grabs another piece of human junk, adding it to the pile in front of her. The Temmie grins and straightens up.

"Humans are made of layers of inverses of monsters. While a monster's body is sustained mostly of magic, human bodies are made of much tougher stuff. As cost for this, almost all humans lose the ability to perform magic, but in return they are much physically stronger than monsters. A side effect, of course, is that, while a monster's strongest attribute is their soul, as it holds deep connections with magic, a human's weakest, and yet, also their most powerful, attribute is their soul. A human's soul is very susceptible to magical attacks— Unless a human kills magical beings, their soul will remain on par in that regard with the very weakest of monsters, no matter how physically strong in body they are. However, the inherent power, barring magic, of a human's soul is incredible compared to our own. For whatever reason, something about what makes humans 'human' allows their souls to often persist for some time after death. " The Temmie offers the human a sharp-toothed smile. "Extraordinary, is it not?

"A monster who takes a human's soul and absorbs it can gain immense power. They become a beast with both the magical capability of a monster, and the physical power and strength of soul of a human— Something more formidable than even a Boss Monster or human Witch. One such creature could pass through the barrier, a proven fact. It has been done before."

Sans frowns in thought. He's never heard of such a thing happening, but then again it's become apparent he's rather behind the times on a lot of these things. "So then why is Asgore collecting multiple souls? He is, right? You said there have been other humans." The Temmie mimes zipping her mouth shut, and with a sigh, Sans chucks another two items over the table to her.

"There is, of course, another option. If one could gather enough human souls, seven to be exact, then they could absorb them all, and become something else entirely." The Temmie says. "A literal god among monsters, and a near unstoppable force to even the humans. This is what King Asgore plans, and what he gathers the souls for. With seven human souls, he can become God. Using his immense power, he will shatter the barrier, and lead us into the second human and monster war. At least, that is what he has said he will do." The Temmie tips her head to the side. "Who knows what will really happen? After all, he is rather… wishy-washy, and who is to say we would win in this theoretical battle? There are more humans than us, as there always have been. And humans do so like to tear down false gods, don't they?"

Sans shifts, and fights the urge to turn and run, now, because she must be lying, she must— But Temmies never lie, and if she's not lying then they're dead, they're all dead, because that's crazy, that's the craziest plan for getting out of the Underground possible. They can't go to war against humans and win, they can't. Even Sans accepts that as a universal fact, and he's barely been around here a few years. Has everyone forgotten how they ended up in the Underground in the first place?

The human places a hand on his arm, her expression worried, and Sans shakes himself out of his stupor, because, right, priorities. Focus on getting the human out now, panic about their apparently insane King's plan to reawaken a war that happened over a century and a half ago and nearly wiped out their entire race.

He pushes forward two of the last few items left. "Theoretically, how does a human get out from the Underground then?" The Temmie looks coolly at him, and he adds another item. That leaves only one left. Sans hopes, against all odds, that the Temmie will give them everything they need. "How does a human get out?" He repeats.

The Temmie hums contemplatively. "The general belief is that a human could cross the barrier of their own free will, as the barrier was constructed to keep monsters in, not humans. Still, that's just a general theory, untested and unproven. There have been… rumors about whether or not it is possible, but no one truly knows. If Asgore knows the definitive answer, then he's being wise and keeping his cards close to his chest." The Temmie pauses. "Of course, there is always the guaranteed option." She offers the human a dark smile, light glinting off her pointed teeth. "Since it has been proven that the combination of human and monster soul is enough to cross the barrier, if a human killed a monster and managed to claim their soul before it eroded, perhaps not even absorb it, just carry it with them, they could most definitely cross the barrier."

"Absolutely not." Snaps the human.

"Oh? Then I suppose you're willing to take the risk that, should you even make it as far as the castle, you may just be trapped regardless and fall to Asgore?" The Temmie chuckles. "If we count you, he'll only need three more. Such a shame, war is so bad for business. Though I suppose it might make an interesting spectacle."

"You're awfully neutral about the destruction of monsterkind." Sans mutters, unable to stop himself.

The head Temmie simply shrugs. "Temmies will survive, we always do. The rest of you, though? It's the luck of the draw. Not that it makes a difference to— Oh." Sans blinks. A Temmie has appeared from…somewhere, he has no clue how, and is standing next to the head Temmie's chair. "What is it, sweetie?" The Temmie gestures, she leans down, and the Temmie whispers something in her ear. Whatever it is brinks back the sharp-toothed, sadistic smile full force, and instantly Sans feels nervous. "Oh really?" She straightens up and gazes at them. "That is _very_ interesting."

"I think we're done here." Sans says with a scowl, going to stand up. "C'mon—" His chair slams into his knees forcefully from behind, no doubt pushed by a Temmie, cutting him off and forcing him to sit down again.

"Don't you want to know the interesting news my dear Tem just heard?" The Temmie asks, all faux-innocence. "It concerns you and your little human friend, you know."

With a rather pointed glare, Sans looks down at the one item he has left to trade, just a pair of human sunglasses with one lens shattered, not worth much value at all on the goods market, and back up at her. The Temmie simply sighs, and looks to the human, who's already pulled her backpack out and is rummaging around inside.

"Don't." Sans grumbles. "It's what she wants." The human just gives him a look with a rather clear message.

 _It's not like we have a choice not to._

Pulling out two candy bars from the bag, the human holds them up for the Temmie's inspection with a raised eyebrow. When the Temmie nods, she chucks them down next to the sunglasses. "Now talk."

"Well apparently…" Could the Temmie's smile get any wider? "Word's gotten out about a possible human in the Underground. A couple monsters caught sight of what they thought was a human walking through the trees of Snowdin forest, and when the Royal Guard dogs were sent to investigate, they picked up what could be a human's scent and traced it back to Snowdin, where a couple citizens told them about the strange monster they'd never seen before walking with a skeleton through town. Until the threat is either confirmed or denied, the Underground are now on high security mode, and there's talk of sending a couple sweeps of guards through parts of the Underground. Waterfall is likely one of those possibilities, as someone thought they saw the skeleton get on the Riverperson's boat with a monster in a cloak."

Sans blanches, and glancing over he can see the human trembling slightly next to him.

God dammit, he thought they'd been careful enough.

"So if I was you two…" The Temmie purred. "I'd get moving awful quick."

Sans stood up with a growl. "They come by and you sell us out? I'm never trading again. You can try to find someone else capable of navigating the lower pools who's willing to take your shit prices."

The Temmie waves a paw. "Calm down. Our deal remains in place. The Royal Guard never pays well for information anyways."

"Wait." The human stands up and places her backpack on the table. "Before we go, how much for the coat for Papyrus?"

"Don't bother, it's fine." Sans mumbles, trying to tug her away from the table, but she ignores him, staring at the Temmie with a neutral expression.

"I don't suppose I can convince you to part with a finger or two? There are always people in the market for human flesh." The human turns faintly green and shakes her head. "No? Didn't think so. Let's see what you've got then."

The human opens her backpack wider and tips it toward the Temmie, who peers inside and mumbles as she digs around. "Would you part with the tutu?"

"No." The human says firmly. "Anything else, though, is fair game."

The Temmie pulls out of the bag, holding three books, a pair of socks, and a water bottle. "Any more candy bars?" The human opens the side pocket and hands the Temmie two more. The Temmie looks over her hoard and grins widely. "Normally this wouldn't be enough, but good human food is difficult to find, as are good-condition human books, so I suppose you have a deal." A Temmie appears by her side, holding the heavy winter coat Sans had been trying to buy for weeks now. "It's yours."

Picking it up without a word, the human hands it to Sans, still so surprised the Temmies actually traded for what they'd been holding over his head for so long that he takes it without a second thought, and walks out of the room.

Sans blinks, and chases after her. "Hey!" She's standing in the village, observing the Temmies with none of the previous awe she had earlier. "You didn't have to trade for that. I would have gotten it eventually."

"Consider it repayment." She mumbles, turning towards the entrance. Quickly, he grabs her arm, tugging her back around to face him.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm helping you out of choice? You don't need to pay me for that."

The human shrugs. "You wasted all that stuff helping me, I think me offering a few things in return is fair trade. Besides, that's something your brother needs, and all the stuff she took from me is stuff I can do without. They weren't of much value to me."

"Well…" Sans sighs. "If you're sure…." She nods. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She hesitates slightly. "…We should probably get moving, right? Just in case there really are guards coming through."

"I'm not going to let them hurt you." Sans says, to reassure both himself and her.

"I know you won't." The human says quietly. With a sigh she surveys the room, and then tips her head back, closing her eyes.

"You alright?"

"Yes." She hums. "I just… feel very determined all of a sudden. I don't know why."

"Well… that's probably a good thing, right?"

She nods, looking at him and grinning happily. "Yes, I think it might be."

 ** _((The official blog for Not As Simple is on tumblr here: (fallendownfallenback)(.tumblr) (.com))_**


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